Manifest of Devotion
by Red Wasabi
Summary: Mickeycentric. Michelangelo has fallen in love with a complete stranger, his thoughts, and reasonings. Used to be oneshot!
1. Chapter 1

I love her. I know that it's wrong, and maybe even kind of sick in a weird stalker-ish type of way to love a woman whose name you don't even know. Who doesn't even know you exist. Who'd probably scream her throat raw if she did find out about you. But I love her.

I first saw her last summer, it had been one of those hot and sticky city summer nights. The kind when crime rates shoot through the roof. But as unlikely as it was, I first became aware of her not because of a crime being committed, but because of a good deed. Good deeds, in the city I have found are rare. Especially in this city, and most especially in that kind of heat. I was laying in wait in an old alleyway that smelled like rotting trash. I was waiting for something to happen, not a specific something, just a general something. I had been there for almost 3 hours and there had been no action, I had been just about to go find a more lively street, when she walked by. 

There was nothing remarkable about her appearance that would normally draw someones eye to her. Her hair was light red and frizzy, her skin was pale, and she was smiling. I suppose that's what caught my eye. In a city of frowns, I found the one person who smiled during a mini-heatwave. Then there were her actions, most people in this big city ignore the homeless. They walk by the beggars pretending not to hear or see them. But when a pathetically dirty man approached her and asked for a dollar, she didn't just push by him like all the others. She looked him straight in the eye, and gave it to him. I was shocked, and I could tell that the homeless dude was too. I think that was the first time I'd ever really been interested in a human. She intrigued me. I had been contemplating following her home that night, but my shell phone started to go off just as she went around the corner. It had been Leo, telling me that I was needed for a drug bust. So I left vowing to myself I'd return to this place again and again until I saw her again.

And I did. I went there in my spare time, and waited for her to pass again. It was easy to get away from the lair, as long as I'm there for practices, no one really notices, or cares what I do. I know they all just figure goofy Mikey, he's off doing something foolish again. Hehe Maybe they're right. After all I did wait in that alley way for her for an entire month. I was close to believing that she hadn't been real, a figment made up of loneliness and heat, but then she was there. I could feel my heart tighten and expand painfully when she quietly strolled past my hiding place. This time I was going to find out where she lived, even if it took me the rest of the night.

So that's how I came to this, sitting on the window ledge of a stranger. I'm just lucky that her building has outer beam supports, The kind that go over peoples windows. That's where I hide, it's small and uncomfortable as shell. But it's worth it. I'm pretty sure that I know her better then her own mother. I know what makes her smile, laugh, dance, sing...and cry. I hate when she cries, it makes me feel useless. And I guess I am.

I love it best when she plays her piano and sings along with it. Sometimes I even imagine that she is singing just for me. I know, I know, that's a dumb, silly, foolish, goofy, whatever you want to call it wish. But then that's all I'm seen as, so I guess I have a right to dream things like that.

And boy do I dream. I dream about her all the time, I think about what I'd say to her if we ever really met. Sometimes I dream that I'm a human, and I'm married to her. We're expecting a baby soon, twins in fact, but all too soon my thoughts flee, to more depressing ones. Like the fact that in all likelihood, we will never meet each other, and if we do she would probably be more likely to throw something at my head in terror, then too fall madly in love with me and bear my children.

But a Turtle can't Dream can he?


	2. Chapter 2

I came to this city two years ago, from across the country. I traded in my sunny skies, and warm winters, for clouds, and snow. I had come here, like many people do, in search of the dreams. The spotlights, the billboards, the big names. Instead I only found a whole mess of dreamers, who just like me left everything behind them to pursue their dreams. I wanted to be a musician, I dreamed of my names up on a marquee someday. but after a month of auditions, rejections, and working a a waitress to pay for the closet that I lived in. I came to my senses. I wanted to be a famous musician and so did a whole lotta other people.

But here I was, in this giant metropolis of a city, without friends, family, and against the sane counseling of my Mother back in warm sunny California. So I did what any normal and stubbornly obstinate 21 year old woman would do. I stayed, determined, to make something of myself, and the road in life that I had so forcefully placed my self on.

The first thing I was determined to do was to get a job where my ass wasn't constantly getting grabbed. I mean I know I'm cute, and I know I was working at Hooters, but that didn't mean I wanted my body to became a stress ball for everything pawing guy. So I picked up the classifieds and found a job. It must have been my lucky day that day, because the first job I found was the one that I'm still working today.

I work as a secretary for private social service organization. At least that's, what I've been told, and you know what, I don't wanna know anything more. I have my suspicions about my employers, I pretty sure they are doing some very illegal things. As a secretary for the head boss, I ahve seen some very...unusual people going into her office, as well as unusual items. Many of which look really old, expensive, valuable. And you know, Last year I had to do the taxes for the entire organization. Ooh Boy! I know somethings aren't being reported to Uncle Sam.

I don't say tell anyone though, I mean who would I blab too? My non-existent friends? I know, I know, Two years in this city and I still don't know anyone. You're probably thinking, Why doesn't she just hang with her co-workers, or join in on some of the organizations 'unity' events? I can tell you in one word why not, Pajamas. Yep uh-huh. That's the other reason that I'm pretty sure my employers aren't on the the level. What kind of a social organization, that's supposed to be hepling inner-city youth, or something like that, has a lotta people dressed in black pajamas running around all the time? I know you maybe thinking, well maybe that's just the crazy ones who do that, but it isn't. Oh no, I've even seen my boss Mz.Saki, in a pair of those weird pj things, as well some kind of weird looking, possibly ceremonial armour. If I wasn't so afraid of being forced to wear those ugly abominations of fashion myself, I'd of gone up to one of them and asked what they were all about already, but in this case--like many others--I figured, silence is probably the best course of action.

I can't decide, though, whether I'm working for some kind of subversive cult, bent on taking over the world. Hence the pajamas, and weird routines. Or if I've been employed by the mafia, and one day the FBI is going to come knocking on the door of my closet, and ask me to be their mole. Either way I figure I'm already screwed. I've been with them a year and half, and at this rate, I'll probably be with the for the rest of my life too. It's on thgouh, the pays good, and as long as they don't force me to wear those funny black pajamas, I'm cool. There's only thing I would change if I could, and is, that I'd like to have at least one, single friend. This city is too big sometimes for someone like me to be alone all the time. But that's about it.


	3. Chapter 3

Meow. I like writing stories, except my crapel tunnel, don't like me too. BAAAD carpel tunnel!

I don't know how it came to this, in retrospect, it was obviously a bad idea to try and break up that drug deal all on my lonesome, but what else could I do. Ignore it, and then pretend the time time I watched about some drug related death on the news couldn't possibly have anything to do with what I helped perpetuate with my willing ignorance? No, I had what Raph and Leo are always arguing about, I think Donnie calls it a moral obligation, or something like that. 

So regardless of my lack of back up I charged in, ready to break up the deal. Unfortunately, these dealers were far more experienced then usual ones. They were Purple Dragons too, just my luck huh? They also seemed to be expecting company--green mutant ninja turtle company. Straight to the point, I had nunchaku, they had guns. You do the math. I've been trained to fight with hand weapons, with my body, with honor. But there is nothing in all my years of ninjitsu training that could possibly prepare me to battle against an opponent who hides a gun under their sweat shirt. I maybe fast, but bullets are faster.

The only defense I could possibly have against that was the last 22 years of my life training in speed. Well, that and, the tiniest hope that the person shooting was A) A slow draw, and B) A bad aim. Turns out they were a little bit of both. By the grace of Lady Luck herself, they were slow enough, and I was fast enough to tuck myself up in a ball. Thus taking the impact of the bullets in far less vulnerable places of my body, like my arms and thighs.

Mind you when I say less vulnerable, I do not in any way mean to give the impression of less painful. You know in the movies, how people get shot, like in the stomach, or leg or something like that, but they just bandage it up and keep on going? Well, let me tell you what, all that is, is LIES! Bullets hurt! I have been stabbed, punched, beaten up pretty damn bad -Thanks Raph- But none of that pain can even begin to describe the sensation of a bullet forcing entry into your body. You can feel it you know, the moment that first pressure kisses your skin, you know what is going to happen. But you can't do anything you stop it, you are helpless. You can't do anything. I think, besides the physical pain, that is probably the second most painful thing about being shot. The utter inability to have control over you body and fate.

The pain for a brief second overwhlemed my mind, body, and soul, I wanted to fall to the ground and scream in silent agony. But that wasn't an option for me, not with a alley full of thugs. I knew I had to land upright and walking, and I couldn't let them see that the bullets had hurt me in more way then one. If I did, I might as well have just walked right up to one of them and put their gun to my head, cause I knew that if it ended up at that point, I wouldn't make it out alive anyway.

So I did what any sane Turtle would do, I hit the ground standing, turned to face my enemies in honorable last battle, and I ran away. Unfortunately though, I was afforded only one hide-away near enough for me to make it with the amount of blood that I had left. My lady's window.

So here I am wedged in my usual hiding spot, in an unusual situation, and bleeding all over her stoop. Thank goodness she's not home right now, I don't know if it would be more emarbassing or comical for this to be the day for her to finally decide to open her curtain and window all the way. I shouldn't worry though, she doesn't get home for about 4 more hours actually, I'll probably be gone by then, I hope.

I'm actually kind of sacred that one of the bullets hit an artery or something. I mean there's a lot of blood on me, and its kind of starting to pool around me. Well if this is my last few moments, at least they'll be spent looking into my lady loves apartment. At least I think I only have a few regrets, the first being, I wish I payed more attention to the doctory part of Grey's Anatomy then the hot nurses, cause then I''d know whether or not I'm going to bleed out on my lady's window ledge or not. And The second being, I wish I had had the courage to talk to her, even it was just once, and even if she screamed at me. I would like to have talked with her before my death. 

If this really is almost death, then it really doesn't feel as bad as those people on TV always make it out to be. It's almost like going to sleep.


	4. Chapter 4

They build the buildings in this city too high. I normally don't mind tall buildings, but there is something about having to walk up 8 flights of stairs that can make a girl change her mind.. Why do ask, am I taking the stairs instead of the elevator? Well, presently, I actually am under the firm belief that my stair climbing is an evil a government plot, to fight the obesity epidemic. Yse, the government has concocted a brillant scheme that forces people to use the stairs instead of the elavators, by using the insidious, out of order sign. In other words, the elevator is broken, ad as such I am forced to climb up to my little closet, instead of being able to take the elevator--like a civilized person.

So now I'm here outside my door trying to catch my breath. I don't care how 'healthy' the stairs are supposed to be, there can't be anything even remotely healthy about losing this much water out of my pores! Today has been a nightmare, you know that? First I was almost late to work, got hit on by that creepo guy who, thankfully works in another department, I think his name is Hun. Or something equally as idiotic. Oh! And I had to commission yet another statue for my boss. Boy, does that woman have issues. Issues of the Daddy variety, if you catch my drift, this is like the third statue of him she has had me commission. And once I caught her talking to one of them, yeah seriously.

Looking on the brighter side of today though, something very odd happened , I was given the rest of this night and tomorrow off. Apparently, there had been some arrangement had been scheduled to go down this evening, but--someone broke it up. You should have seen the place about 6pm, it was a mad house. The crazies in their pj's were running all over the place! This is also about the time I, A) realized some bad shiz had, or was about to go down, B) needed to get the hell out of Dodge city, and C) was thankfully dismissed by Mz.Saki before I just bolted in plain fright and ended up fired.

Boy am I glad to be back in my safe little closet again! It maybe small, and it may smell, like blood but at least it's safe!...Wait--blood is not a normal smell for my apartment. Dead plant, old dishes, really old trash, all normal, but boy howdy that blood smell isn't. Jeez, this _would be _the perfect way to end to day huh? Playing the lets find the murder victim in your apartment game! Yay! and I thought I had to live in LA to play _this_ game!

Is it in the kitchen? Nope just dirty dishes and old trash. Unless the body has been stuffed into one of my cupboards of course. Which is a much creepier thought then I care to think right now. Next! Bathroom? All clear, not a single maiamed body hiding in the bathtub behind the shower curtain. Great, just peachy. That leaves just one more place, my closet. I swear if I find even one little human sacrifice in there, I am soo complaining to the management! They will hear from me, dammit! And...nothing. huh. Just my clothes, and some boxes of crap I am to sentimental over to get rid over. So where is that smell coming from? 

Ssshh! I heard something! It sounded like a moan, OK then, grabbing my single golf club from the closet now. You know my mother always ridiculed me for keeping this old thing, said I'd never use it, on account of the fact I don't know how to play golf. Guess who's using her useless golf club now Ma! Hey there is was again!

Holy crap, I think that noise is coming from my window sill! Shoot, I should just forget this right now, I've seen enough scary movies to know when something is outside your window you are most definitely not supposed to go and check it out. You only go check the noise out if you have holy water, or it's like 12 in the afternoon! Except, I have to, it's that womanly curiosity thing, you know with Eve and all jazz. I just know this is some how going to end up with either an alien implant in my neck, or an alien with my poor self in it's stomach.

OK, OK, breath, breath. Please God, let it be a bird. A big bird that's bleeding enough for me to smell it, but be a bird. I can take a bird. I could probably even scare it off if I yell really loud when I open my window. OK, Be a bird, be a bird, be a bird...Arrrggghhhh!!...Alien!! Omigod! It really is an alien, Nnngggg I was just joking about that God, why didn't you make it a bird! I was honestly looking forward to the bird, not the anal probing, and body snatching!

Please Mr. Alien, don't eat or implant me! Uhh, Mr. Alien? Huh? Whaddaya know, my first contact with non-human life, and it's unconscious. Lordy Lou, and with good reason, looks like E.T. here was rode hard and put away wet! He also seems to be the source of the bloody stench, no pun intended. What should I do in this situation? What does one do with an alien, who just happened to hid away on your sill and then pass out of blood loss. I feel that morally, I should help him out, but the human part of me is telling me to just roll him out the window. Who knows why his race is here, maybe their planning on enslaving the entire human race! Maybe this is their military leader behind the invasion, and I could be saving all of humanity by pretending he's not my problem and letting him accidentally fall out the window.

Yeah, I know, I know, I can't do that, damn my big softie hart. I just hope that when he wakes up and calls the mother ship, and the invasion begins, he remembers that I didn't kill him. And I could have, and maybe he'll kill me real quick instead of enslaving me like the rest of humanity.


	5. Chapter 5

I have Carpel Tunnel syndrome. An' it hurts. T.T

I think I died and ended up in hell. I can think of no other possible explanation for why I am in a Nemo themed bathroom, laying in the tub, with a giant Nemo head, that I hope is a soap dispenser, ogling me. This has to be hell, because if it were that other possible explanation, that I don't even want to dream about, then I don't know if I'm more estatic, or mortified. That's it, either I'm dead, or my Lady Love miracuously got off of work early, found me and took pity on my wretched form.

OK Mikey check, hands, toes, fingers, legs,-Hey my bullet wounds are bandaged and Ow! damn they hurt like shell. Note to self, don't move like that again. Alright, I seem to be all here, that means, this isn't Hell. Which leaves only one option, she found me. Jeez, I hope it wasn't her, maybe she decided to hire a cleaning lady, and they found me...yeah, that must be it. I mean if it really is her, what am I going to say to her, Hi, I'm a mutant Turtle, a ninja, and oh-yeah I've been stalking you for like a year now. Yeah, I'm sure that would go over well.

Click. Hey the door' opening, ohmigod, what if it's her, what do I do? She just probably saved my life, and she doesn't even know me, and I love her! She's pulling the curtains back, oh-god-oh-god-oh-god! It's her! She's even more beautiful when I see her up close! I feel like I'm going to explode, I love you! I love you! Why isn't she saying anything? Oh, no, I bet I disgust her, after all I am a green mutant turtle, and she is such a beautiful human woman. Please say something, anything but freak, please anything!

"Please tell me your diet consists mainly of noodles and not people." 

'What?!

"I made you some noodles to eat, in place of me. You see I'd rather not be eaten b you Mr. Alien, and I think that because I fixed you up instead of rolling you out the window, to your almost certain death, deserves a reward, one like not being eaten by you."

She's talking, but my mind is still frozen on two things she's said, A) She thinks I am an alien, and B) she keeps saying 'eaten by you'. Gah! NO, Mikey do not think perverted thoughts. Remember what Homer Simpson says, Think unsexy thoughts, think unsexy thoughts. Oh jeez that's not working, she's still staring at me and all I can think of is eaten by you. I'm such a loser!

"I like to eat noodles." There I managed to get something out that isn't an innuendo or offending to her-I hope. She smiling at me, I made her smile! I made her smile! Oh no thank you my Love, you no longer have to feed me, I could live off that smile for the rest of eternity!

"Well you can speak! I was beginning to wonder if maybe you didn't speak human languages."

Oh Boy, I'd better nip this in the bud. Though technically, it's kinda cool to be mistaken for an alien. I'd rather not have our first night together with her in fear of me devouring her to feed my alien appetite.

"I'm not an Aleen actually, I'm a mutant turtle named Michelangelo, you can call me Mikey, if you want."

"You're a mutant? As in the X-men? Cool! Hey magneto isn't going to like break through the wall any minute now is he? By the way, my name is Jane, but you can call me Janie. It's much less plain I think."

X-men, Magneto? She knows comic books? I think I have, if it were at all possible, fallen more in love with you my dear-Jane, Jaine! Ah! at least I know your name, and what a beautiful name it s my Love! So simple and classic, just like you!

"You read comics?" Please say yes, please say yes, if you Janie, darling, then this is a love that is meant to be. Even if you don't know it yet.

"Yeah! I read all kinds of comic books do you? IN fact I collect them" 

Aaahhh! She reads comic books, this is fate, God must love my mutant self!

"I collect comic books, too!"

"Oh that's so cool you wanna see my collection? I keep it in my closet cause there isn't anywhere else."

She is inviting me to see her collection, of comic books! That must mean she trusts and likes me, cause I sure as shell wouldn't let someone weirdo that I had found on my window sill see my collection if I didn't like them! 

"I'd love to see them and while you show me, I could tell you a little about myself maybe?" That's right Mikey boy, ease her into it. She'll love you someday.

"I'd love too! But first I wanna check you wounds out, I think you're leaking some."

Oh Shell! I didn't relaize in my excitment of finally meeting her that I'd begun to bled through some of my bandages. This is that embarassment-ness that I was trying to avoicd, damn. Wellat least this means she'll have to re-bandage me, and this time I'll be awake for it all!


	6. Chapter 6

One word, mutants. Yeah seriously. Whoa, just whoa. I have got a mutant, who I thought was an alien, sleeping on my bed right now. A mutant, like as in X-men, except not--I think. You know what, I think this maybe the most interesting day of my life. I really think so, cause one, I got let off ear;y from work, for the first time ever. Two I found this alien turned mutant bleeding in my apartment, and three, I learned that mutants actually exist! Damn, this is so frickin' X-Files. I'm just here in the bathroom waiting for Agent Sculley and Mulder to knock on my door.

I always kinda felt that mutants existed. I've had that speech prepared on mutant equal rights, just so I could show how accepting of my beloved X-Men I am-- when they finally came out of hiding. However the mutant of the turtle variety was not what my speech was geared towards. So I guess 'll have to hold off on it.

Mutated by Radioactive ooze? Howdya like that? And here I was, thinking that radioactive stuff just killed you. Nope, if the evidence that crawled onto my window sill and bled all over my bathroom, is any proof, I shoulda been standing in front of the microwave all these years! Humph, well maybe it's not too late. I can always try to mutate myself while making breakfast tomorrow!

Whew, all done with the bloody tub, now on to the bloody floor. Ha! I just realized that when I throw my garbage out tomorrow morning, the hobos are gonna think that either a serial killer, or a butcher lives in this building. Muuwwwahahahahahha fear my bloody trash hobos! Fear it!

Eh-hem, excuse me, I think I got a little too excited there. He sure bled a lot, I can't help but think that sure was lucky that I got released from work early. Any longer and I think that poor guy would have bled to death there on my stoop, and he that would have made me feel awful for several reasons. Firstly, he's a nice guy, and he's kinda cute. In an odd, turtlely not human green way. Secondly, if he'd of died there, it would have left me with one A) Heavy, B) Suspicious, C) Not Human, body that _I_ would have had to get rid of. And as I'm not a serial killer or butcher, contrary to what the hobos are going to be thinking come tomorrow morning, I have no experience in the field of dumpling bodies and would most likely have been caught. And the third reason, and maybe it's the most selfish of them all, but I think I have a right to be selfish after all I did save his life, is that now that he's going to live, maybe he'll stay, and I won't be so alone anymore.


	7. Chapter 7

I wrote two chapters tonight! Yay me! Now, I must write chpaters 13, and 11 for my other stories! Yay! BTW Does anyone else find that they write better at night? Cause I realized that I do, and I think that it's kind of strange. Does anyone ever read this anyway? Please reveiw:3

----------------------

It's amazing really, how in a city with millions of people, I can feel so alone. Though maybe it's not so hard when there are only four of your species in existence, and they're all male. But that's besides the point. It's so quiet here, even though in all common sense it shouldn't me at all. I should be laying here staring at the ceiling o Janie's apartment, hearing the nosies of the city. The sounds of cars and people and movement, and life, that somehow manages to even make it's way down into the sewers to lull me to sleep. It's simply not here. Or maybe it is, but for once I have something better then a car honking to focus on.

Shh! Did you hear that? She's snoring. Not very loudly mind you, but it's just enough to make my heart inside y chest expand painfully. The girl I'm in love with is sleeping less than two feet away from me. She's all tangled up in a blanket, and she's laying on he pillow rather then using it just for her head. Have you ever been jealous of an inanimate object before? Cause right now, I am so jealous of that pillow, and blanket. They get to be right up next to her, and she doesn't mind a bit.

When she was first putting me here I tried to get her to share the bed with me. Acted like I was just concerned for her back, her health, her anything to get her on the bed next to me. But she laughed and told me that she didn't know me well enough to share the bed with me yet. In that moment you don't know how strong the urge to blurt out, everything was. Everything being that I knew everything about her. That I'd been watching her for such a long time, and that I loved her so much, and how I wanted to stay with her always. Luckily I managed to hold that in with a fake coughing fit. I don't want to say anything, I--I just couldn't lose her now.

I know that they say, it's better to have loved and lost, then to have never loved at all. But who ever said that had shell for brains. If I lost her now, I--don't know what I'd do. Or. if I'd ever even be able to go on. You see, when I only knew her through the window, and she knew nothing of me. Nothing was at stake, I could dream a thousand possibilities and makes them end in any way I pleased. And believe me I pleased. But now with this--whatever it's going to be, everything is at stake. If I make one wrong step, I could lose her forever. That's what paralyzes me with fear, the thought that I could have had her in my grasp, had bliss in my arms, and then I lost it.

If she wanted nothing but friendship with me, I'd be ecstatic. I know the odds of her and me--well I know they're slim to nill. Who would want to love a five foot four green mutant turtle, that's a ninja. Oh and who's father is a giant Rat. Oh boy that would go over well. No I know that I have no chance against those flesh pink human men out there. But if she could just give me her friendship, I'm almost positive that maybe, I could be satisfied with that. Not happy, never happy with just friendship, but satisfied.


	8. Chapter 8

I think it lies somewhere in the desperate department, and even more so in the creepy one- if you're going to be harsh- for me to be this attached to an almost complete stranger. But I am. I can't decide if it's just the way that he is sitting on my bed playing my electric piano, poorly might I add, or just something that comes from inside him. I dunno, something like a--light; that might be the only way to aptly describe it.

I'll admit, when I first woke up this morning, my first thoughts were,'Why the Hell am I laying the floor.' and 'What the Frickin' A is laying on my bed staring at me?!' That's before it all came back to me. Unfortunately, I also screamed. Which caused my Friend to roll out of my bed on the other side, and me to re-gain my memories. But I think I had already hurt his feelings. 

And that made me feel like crap. I mean how would you feel if someone woke up, looked at you and then screamed like they were being killed? It's probably a very traumatizing event. I imagine. So I tired to make it up to Him, I actually found some non-spoiled food items in the fridgerator and made a semi-edible breakfast, that consisted of Slightly burnt scrambled eggs, orange juice that was almost- but not quite bad yet, toast, that wasn't really toast but stale bread, I figured it would have the same affect; and some old corn chips I found in the back of my cupboard after some through searching. All things done and said, it was a pretty fancy affair, in my opinion. Though from the look on Michelangelo's face his opinion was probably the polar opposite.

But he didn't say anything, no comments, nothing. That definitely earned hi some brownie points. I have had more then enough people in my life time comment on my...style of culinary cuisine to last a life time. Nope, he didn't say a word he just choked it down, and asked to go to the bathroom afterwards. Where I strongly suspect he threw it all up, but at least he didn't make it obvious.

That's what makes him so--I dunno different. I know, I know, You re thinking, Jaine, Baby, he is a green turtle like mutant, how much more different do you need him to be? But that's not exactly the kind of different that I 'm talking about. It's like he--we, fit together. I know it sounds silly, like I'm being one of those sex crazed, but deprived girls in those novels, but it's not even been one day, and it's almost as if he's known me my entire life.

It sound crazy, and maybe kind of paranoid, but he knows me. I can feel it. From the way he knows exactly what I'm thinking, just from a passing look. Or from the way he knows exactly what to say to put me at ease, to make me feel less guilty for screaming at him. I know it doesn't' make sense, but he knows me.

I don't know what he was doing before he managed to find his way bleeding and unconscious on to my window sill; or how even managed to make it to my window sill in the first place. Furthermore I don't think I care what he was doing. For once in my life I feel as if I have an anchor in the ocean of life. I am no longer just drifting alone. I have someone, granted, they are a green, mutant, vaguely humanoid someone; but I can work with that. I just hope he will stay.


	9. Chapter 9

I think I went a little crazy with the semi-Collins...can you tell?

**XXXXXXXXXX **

I am happier now then I have ever been in my entire life. Today, I have done things that my brothers--I have only ever dreamed of. Besides April, we have never found another female willing to accept us, willing to look past the green skin and the shells; until now. I found her, well in all respects she technically found me, but that's beside the point. hat really matters, is that she found me.

I did things today, things that I do everyday, but they were somehow different. Special, and all because of her. I dried dishes standing next to her. I sang songs while she played her little electric piano, we watched tv together from a tiny black and white screen that's perched on her dresser.

We laughed, with each other, at each other, at things. And when it got dark, we ate together, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. As if I wasn't a green, three fingered, shelled, bald, mutant turtle, and she wasn't a beautiful pink human. As if we weren't one or the other, we were nothing, just two friends, two beings. That's it.

We watched old movies on her bed; until she fell asleep. Even now, if I cared to allow it into my sphere of attention I would be able to hear the low buzz of B-movie conversation; but I don't bother to. Nothing is, or will be as important as this moment right now.

She's laying there, inches from me. If I wanted to reach out and touch her, I could do so without barley moving at all. And I want too. God, I want to. The soft sound of her breaths, the almost silent snore she's making. It's like torture to not reach out and move her closer to me. To mold my green reptilian skin against hers, to sleep, and wake up with her.

But I guess I like torture, because I can't seem to move a single muscle. I'm afraid, afraid that if I move, all of this will melt away. That it will be a dream; something that I can't ever really have. And, I'm afraid, that if I move and wrap myself around her like I've dreamed about, that I will just break. I don't think I would ever be able to go back to the lair. Not when what I could have, what could have been mine--had I just had the balls to stay with her. No, I'd end up staying, I'd never go back. Even if it meant staying the rest of my life her little apartment, I would be hooked. Unable to function without her.

Going back to the lair, I would risk possibly being told by Sensei to never see her again. And That would kill me; to never see her smile, hear he laugh, or sleep again. To spend my nights alone, in the sewers, dreaming of nothing but when I slept next to her, held her close, and had the chance to wake up like that every single day for the rest of my life. I couldn't do it, so I can't do it. I can not hold her the way I want to.

When I close my eyes, I can still see her face; but I can also hear the sounds of New York City at night. I know that my brothers will have noticed my absence by now, especially when I didn't make it to any of the meals today. I know I need to go out there, search for my brethren, but what will I say when they ask where I've been? I refuse to tell them about Janie. I can't have her taken away from me, not now, not ever. I suppose the only answer for their question would be Heaven, I've been in heaven, eating things far more filling then what mortals eat.

I have to go, I can't stay; not when the urge to stay is so deep.

OK, quietly Mikey, use all that ninja training that you've learned. Carefully rollover the sleeping beauty; do not kiss her while you do! Slowly step off the bed, make sure not to jerk the mattress, and now, step over the boxes, and towards the window. Almost there Mikey, almost free from your beloved temptation.

"You're leaving?" a sleepy voice asked from the darkness of the barley lit room.

"I have to--My brothers, and Father, they will be wondering where I am."

'_Please just let me leave, please just let me leave, I would stay if you only hinted at it._'

"You will come back won't you?"

That's it, one resolve must be broken tonight. Two short steps to the bed and I'm leaning over her once again. I can't kiss her lips like I want to, I would leave if I did. But I can settle for her forehead for tonight.

Her skin is warm, and alive beneath mine. It smells faintly of a scent that is all at once familiar, and utterly foreign to me. I bathe in it. If I live a thousand years, and kiss a thousand more women, I will never forget the smell of her skin.

It's time to go Mikey, you have to leave. I know, I know. I should listen to myself, and in a few moments I will. But before I go I have to assuage my dear Jaine's fears.

"I'd come back to you if the world ended tomorrow."

* * *

**AN:** OK, well...This was supposed to be posted like..ages ago. I totally do not know what happened. It hid itself somehow...sorry about the wait! 


	10. Chapter 10

Oh My Sweet Biffy, I think I just got some of it in my mouth. Yea, that's right I just got sewer water in my mouth. Gag me with a spoon, the things I do for—well my only friend. You might have a few questions like just how in the world did I end up in the New York sewer system? Why am I drinking the water, and why in world am I doing this for a guy—mutant, who hasn't, even though he promised too, come back to visit me or at least let me know he really did exist. I promise you that there is a good explanation for all of this—I just don't know what it is right now. I guess I am just crazy or desperate, or a little bit from both columns. But what I DO know is that I have to do this. His life might depend on it; his entire family might depend on me right now. And I don't know where in the hell I am.

I know how this seems, really I do. But really I am not some kind of weird and creepy stalker chick. Ok I'll admit that I have been thinking about him a lot, and with in this week that I've met him I've probably had more dreams about—never mind. The point is is that I am not some crazy searching for his home--in the sewers--in the dead of night--talking to myself. Ok then, maybe I AM just a little crazy. But like I said before this may be life and death we're talking about, you see you remember that company I work—well work-ED for now I guess. Turns out they're evil. And I know, I know what conglomerate in this day in age ISN'T evil, but serious this one was more evil then most. I know this not because of the suspiciously great employee benefits package they gave me or because of the awesomely flexible work schedule—which in retrospect should have been the first red flags because I mean come on no company can be THAT good and be on the level at the same time. And you know, if I had never met Michelangelo I probably won't have—well 'stolen' confidential company files and made my way down the nearest manhole, but I did. And now that I do know him, even if maybe he had no intention of keeping promise to me about coming back—even if he was only pretending to like me so I wouldn't shove him out the window while he was injured...I can't work for a company that's planning on raiding, capturing, and killing my only friend and his family next Tuesday. It's just not kosher.

Jeeze, it's dark down here. I should have just waited till morning, maybe at least SOME light would have gotten down—what was that?!

Oh dear Gawd, something is moving ahead of me in this tunnel. Ok Janey-girl, back away a little, maybe be it's a hobo or crocodile...or big green turtle man? What was that sound? That couldn't possibly be what I think it was right? I mean who carries around knives in the New York sewer system? I certainly don't—although now I feel I should have been better prepared I mean this is New York after all. Oh Gawd, he's running for me I can tell! What do I do?! Should I run? Should I scream, should I squeal like a little girl and curl up in a ball hoping the end is swift and merciful?

Why has everything gone really quiet all of a sudden? I KNOW he's here somewhere, it's like he just disappeared or something. Jeeze this is just great. I am not only lost in the sewers at NIGHT but now I am being taunted and scared half to death by either Michelangelo or one of his brothers...I should just forget about this, if thats him he obviously doesn't want to see me. He probably thinks I'm some kind of crazy stalker...and maybe he's right kind of, but you know what I came down here. Risked life and limb for him to get this disc, and damn it even if he doesn't want to see me he is going to get this disc. His wishes be damned I WILL save him! I'll just hold it up in the air and, "Michelangelo?" Ha! That caused a stir! Bet he didn't think I could tell it was him!...bastard. "I got this disk I think you should see it; it's about you and your family. I think you're going to be in trouble." Thats right just explain the disc Janie, don't break down crying and asking him where he's been. You are strong, like a rock or and eagle—or whatever that one song says. You are str—wait who's pressing on my neck and why is everything going bl--.

****

Dedicated to Storm Seer, we've never met but her reveiw inspired AND reminded me to write more for this story.


	11. Chapter 11

I have said it before but I was wrong, Jane's apartment bathroom was not hell, this lair is. She must think I am absolute scum. I bet you she wouldn't even talk to me now if I somehow managed to give my brothers the slip and see her for a few minutes. Cause why should she, you know? I'm just the lying mutant scum bag that is completely and totally irrevocably in love with her.

They know I'm lying about what happened to me too. Well at least Master Splinter does anyway, I hate to lie to him but what else could I do? I can't risk being told to never see her again; just thinking about that makes my heart feel like breaking.

"Mikey, it's time for me to check your wounds."

"Ok Donnie." Bah. Don't you of all turtles understand Donnie? The real wound is not in my leg or my arm; it goes much deeper then that. My heart has been pierced and bleeding this whole week and there is no way anything you do or say will stop it. No not even those not so subtlety hidden comic books that you keep accidentally leaving around my room in hopes of tempting me out of , how did Raph put it? Oh yeah, 'funk'.

I haven't left this room since the night I came back here after spending the day with my most wonderful Lady. I knew I'd be in for it when I finally came back but damn, I underestimated. And Splinter knew. I know he didn't say anything out loud, and I have refused to see him since then but I knew he knew. That's why he has forbidden me to leave the lair alone. Or really at right now, claims my leg needs to rest and heal; and that none of us should ever go up top alone. And really I understand where he's coming from. He's after all despite his excess mount of hair, our father. It's like his job to watch after us, and make sure that we don't go running off doing something crazy and get killed. Really I understand, but still...

"Michelangelo! Come down here at once!" Hey don't look at me like that Donnie-boy, I don't know what I've done either. Master Splinter has respected my need for distance all week long, I have no clue why he's calling me down now—especially like that.

Oh. OH. Dear Lord I think I died up there in my room. I can't think of any other reason why Leo would be holding my darling Jane—who is unconscious!?

"What happened to her!?" I demand to know! Was she like this when you found her, did you rescue her? Will she like you better then she liked me?! Damn this gimpy leg I can't limp fast enough to her!

"Michelangelo. What is the meaning of this?" Ah. Yes. Leo? Care to help me out here buddy-old pal? After all you're the one holding the love of my life like she's a wet towel.

"She had this on her, said it needed to be given to Michelangelo. She said it was really important, here you take it Donnie."

What!? You mean you talked to her Leo!? She talked to you, you talked to her; there was conversation?! I need to know how exactly this took place.

"But how is she unconscious then if you two talked?" That's right ease the information out of him, find out what exactly was said without sounding to eager—or jealous for that matter.

"She was down in the eastern tunnels, about a mile off. I didn't know if she was a threat so I was just going to scare her back up top; but then she said your name. Said that we were in danger and gave me that disc." That answers little to nothing dear brother; let's try again.

"So she got knocked-out how now?" Come on Leo you're obviously not telling me some part of this; what did you decide to dib her? Cause I already have and damn it if I won't fight you for her.

"I knocked her out before bringing her here."

You what!? YOU knocked her out!? Oh dear Lord! This cannot be happening; what am I going to say when she regains consciousness? Hi, How are you, welcome to my home, by the way this is my older Brother Leo; he knocked you unconscious AFTER he tried to scare the crap out of you—on purpose.

"Michelangelo, explanations now." Yeah I know I'm trying to think of some good ones but—oh. You mean for the family don't you Master Splinter; yeah I guess that would make more sense then what I was going off of...

"First could you please go put her down in my room Leo." And don't give me that squirrelly eye mister. You know very well that it isn't like that—although not for lack of wanting. I just don't want her to be uncomfortable...or to wake up in your arms.

"Wow Mikey, never knew ya had it in ya."

"It's not like that Raph." Really it's not, and please stop smiling at me like that no, don't leer at me either. It's really very different then what you're thinking, I swear.

"Well then Michelangelo explain to us what exactly 'it' is like..." I guess this is it then. I have to face the music; gawd I just hope she will still speak to me after this.


End file.
